


A Cold, Harsh World

by DustySoul



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Bilingual Bonus, Bilingual Character(s), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt where Claire helps Matt bath on the daredevil kinkmeme. I mean. There's like. Three lines of that. Maybe four. Mostly it's Claire taking care of everyone and speaking with Santino in Spanish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold, Harsh World

**Author's Note:**

> Translation for all the Spanish bits thanks to telm393 on tumblr or telm_393 on AO3. The English I wrote in the end notes
> 
> Kinkmeme link http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/2760.html?thread=4664264#cmt4664264

“¿Cress que tu mama va a estar bien, Santino?

“Si, señora.”

“Asegúrate de sacar la frazada eléctrica, y llama me si el tuyo para de funcionar. Tengo otra. No quiero que se resfríe.”

“Por supuesto. Voy a cuidar la bien.”

“Siempre lo haces. Ya estas en camino a ser un enfermero.”  Claire smiles at him.

Santino’s lips twist and his eyes soften, but he doesn’t quite manage a smile back.

Claire offers him a hug. “Eres un buen muchacho. Tu mama va a estar bien. Ahora, asegúrate que tu duermas un poco también. No le puedes ayudar si estas agotado.”

“Tu también duerme. Tu eres la que trabaja doce horas en el hospital.”

“Okay. Buenas noches, Santino.”

“Oh.” She turns back to him, where he’s already mostly up the stairs, “¿Y la Señora Davis a mirado tu ensayo para Human Geo?”

“Si.”

She gives him a look.

“Lo haré en la mañana.”

“Ve que lo hagas, la escuela es bastante importante.”

“Si, Claire.”

“Buenas noches.”

“Buenas noches.”

 

Claire closes the door to her apartment and leans against it, sighing heavily. Ms. Ramos’ condition is deteriorating. The flu would kill her right now. And there isn’t much more Santino can do to help. He’s already working, makeing sure all the utility bills are paid on time. Which doesn’t matter if something in the building’s heating system goes wrong. Like now. She shivers, crossing her arms over her chest.

She goes to get that heated blanket, just in case Santino needs to fetch it from her in the middle of the night.

Mariana probably has asthma and her mother definitely can’t afford an inhaler… Nicolás has a persistent head ache that should probably be checked out by a doctor, but they can’t do go. Even Claire can only only pray it will go away. And little baby Emilia will need to go into the ER in the morning if she hasn’t stopped vomiting. Her mamá should have taken her tonight but… Claire sighs, setting the blanket on the storage unit under her coat rack.

Her burner phone rings. Great, one more thing to worry about.

“ETA?” She says, taking in a deep breath, eyes closed.

“Now. I’m on your fire escape.”

She helps Matt in. He can’t put any weight on one of this legs. They hobble to her sofa and she deposits him there. (A tip she learned after getting roped into all this: hand sanitizers does wonders for getting blood stains out of upholstery.)

Grabbing her first aid kit ((steadily growing since she started stitching up Matt) and opened her unofficial clinic hours) and sets into her usual patching up the vigilante routine. She is not gentle in sewing up his wounds. Or, in this case, palpating his admen to make sure he’s not going to die from internal bleeding. She wraps his ribs and sprained angle. But she is not uncompassionate either. She tries never to be.

A comfortable, familiar silence falls between them. Claire breaks it only to warn, “This is going to hurt.” So Matt can suppress his flinch.

She finishes her work and tidies up while Matt drifts in a daze of pain and endorphins.

“It’s about one in the morning.” She tells him as she washes her hands. “Are you going to stay?”

“If I could.”

“You should shower, then. No stitches or catheters or anything. And no offense but you really stink.”

He lets out a weak laugh then, “Yeah, no kidding. So does your couch.”

“The blood or the alcohol?”

“The alcohol. It feels like it’s napalming my noise. Some kind of disinfectant?”

“Yeah. It get’s the blood out. I have other people in my home you know.”

Matt painfully rises to his feet. “Sure.”

She calls after him, “Oh, and the heat’s not working, so the water will be cold.”

He stops in his tracks, regarding the fate a head of him before saying, “I’ll manage.” He hobbles in the right direction.

She wonders if she’s told him where the bathroom is or if he’s just figured it out by scent or something. (That’s… that’s really gross to think about, actually.) He fumbles with the handle.

She doesn’t hear the lock engage, but the pipes protest the demand for water. She wonders if this is a sign of trust, or if he’s just to tired to be bothered fumbling with the door nob to figure out how it works.

She starts in on her pile of dishes. She knows she’s not going to be able to sleep until Matt’s settled. She’s scrubbing some particularly stubborn piece of days old, dried mac n’ cheese with a fork when she hears a thud. She puts the plate down.

“Matt?” She calls. When he doesn’t respond right away she rushes to the door.

“I’m alive.” He responds, just as she reaches it.

She stops, staring at the wood grain, before taking a deep breath and saying, “Anything broken?”

“Nothing important.” He calls back, voice tight with pain.

“Such as?”

“Maybe my ankle. And a rib. The usual. Oh and something fell. Other than me. I don’t think it broke.”

“Can I come in?”

“Only if you promise to buy me dinner later.”

She smiles. He can probably hear it through the door or something. “I think sewing your intestines back together counts for like three dinners.” She comes in.

He’s sprawled in the bath tub, one hand grabbing the rim, the other, his injured ankle. She steps in behind him and hauls him up under his arm pits. (High enough that she doesn’t jostle those ribs.) Even gripping the support bar, he’s shivering. Which… okay, yes he was covered in blood, dirt, muck, maybe even someone’s vomit, but she should have known better. Her sofa has seen worse days and she should have just left him there and not said anything.

And he’s Matt, **soaking**. And naked as the day he was born. Yeah, through the layers of hoodies and sweaters, she should have thought this through.

“It will go faster if I help you.” She says. He turns a little red around the ears. It’s definitely not the water, which still showers over them, starting to soak through Claire’s wool sweater. “And then you’ll be dry and warm faster.”

He nods.

She’s back into nurse mode, efficient. So he’s wrapped in one of her fluffy bathrobes and and all the dried blood and junk is scrubbed off him in under ten minutes. The water from the shower head runs clear into the drain. She rewraps his bandages and covers him in blankets, depositing him in an armchair. 

She goes back to the pile up of dishes. The cheese is easier to get off now that it’s been given a proper steep. And she waits for Matt’s breathing to signal he’s a sleep. Half and hour, and hour later it doesn’t. He still shivers intermittently.

The chore done she returns to his side. “You going to be able to sleep there?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You’re teeth are chattering.”

“They are not.”

“You could sleep in my bed.”

“Then where would you sleep?”

Claire bites her lip, but only for a moment. “My bed.”

“That is the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard. But I’m too tired and too cold to care.”

So she bundles him up, and cares him bridal style to her room. 

Once buried under a second set of covers he says, “I’m going to poke you with my cold feet for that.”

She spreads out more blankets across the foot of the bed, tucking them in expertly. “You won’t have cold feet by the time I get in.” She goes about brushing her teeth and changing into her night clothes in a much slower, easy way. It’s personal care. And it lets her unwind in a way she can’t when caring for others.

Just when she’s ready to get into bed there is a knock at the door. Santino needs her electric blanket.

“Lo siento por despertarte, señora.”

She waves his apology away. “No es un problema. Solo asegúrate que lo devuelvas cuando el Señor Jackson a regresado.”

“Por supuesto lo hare.”

“Y tu ensayo.”

“Si, buenas noches.”

 He smiles at her. It’s almost a real smile.

“Buenas noches.”

She returns to Matt and big spoons around him before drifting off to sleep herself.

 

In the morning she finds Matt has gone, Ms. Ramos is no worse than she was last night, the baby kept down half a meal around midnight and a full one this morning, her sofa only has a few blood stains, all her dishes are clean, and best of all, the heat’s fixed.

All and all it’s looking to be a good day, even with 12 hours in the ER ahead of her and the prospect of more emergencies when she gets home.

**Author's Note:**

> “Will your mother be alright, Santino? It will get very cold without the heat until Mr. Jackson can get in to fix the heat.”  
> “Yes, Claire.”  
> “You make sure you pull out that electric blanket, and call me if yours stops working. I have an extra. I wouldn’t want her to catch cold…”  
> “Of course, I’ll take good care of her.”  
> “You always do. You’re on your way to becoming a nurse already.” Claire smiles at him.  
> Santino’s lips twist and his eyes soften, but he doesn’t quite manage a smile back.  
> Claire offers him a hug. “You’re a good kid. You’re mom’s going to be fine. Now, make sure you get some sleep too. You can’t help her if you’re exhausted.”  
> “You make sure you get some sleep, too. You’re the one working twelve hour shifts at the hospital.”  
> “I will. Goodnight, Santino.”  
> “Oh.” She turns back to him, where he’s already mostly up the stairs, “And have you had Ms. Davis look over your human geo paper?”  
> “Yes.”  
> She gives him a look.  
> “I’ll do it in the morning.”  
> “See that you do, schools very important.”  
> “Yes, Claire.”  
> “Goodnight.”  
> “Goodnight.”  
> ...  
> Just when she’s ready to get into bed there is a knock at the door. Santino needs her electric blanket. She has to untangle it from Matt to bring it to him.  
> “Sorry for waking you, ma’am.”  
> She waves his apology away. “It was no problem. Just make sure you return it once Mr. Jackson has returned.”  
> “Of course. I will. Goodnight.”  
> “And you paper.”  
> “Yes, goodnight.”  
> “Goodnight.”
> 
> \--
> 
> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


End file.
